A chance to dance
by Ryuutarouchan
Summary: Will, nervous about drinking at an FBI gathering, goes to Hannibal for advice. Hannigram slash


Disclaimer: I don't own anything, all respect to the original creator and honestly we all know Fuller would get a kick out of this.

Yet again Hannibal opened the door into his waiting room to find Will pacing the floor, clearly flustered about something. It had almost become routine, anytime something overwhelmed Will, he would inevitably end up coming to see Hannibal. Whether it be in the office or at his home, he would show up and pace until the doctor had finished whatever it was he was doing before going into what was wrong. It was a trust he both treasured and savored, knowing how the kind-hearted empath depended on him.

"Good evening Will," he greeted, bringing the other out of his reverie. Will looked up at him, meeting his eyes for a moment before resuming his pacing. "Do you want to talk here, or would you prefer to join me for dinner?"

"I-… uh tha- I…." he awkwardly stuttered through before going silent a moment. He finally stopped pacing, fidgeting with his glasses before speaking again. "I'll meet you at your house. I guess I need a few more minutes… to sort out my thoughts. Sorry."

Hannibal gave a reassuring smile, "You need not apologize for coming to see me, Will. Why don't you go ahead, and I will meet you there after I finish locking up." He watched as Will gave a terse nod and quickly turned and walked out the main door. Hannibal took his time shutting out the last of the lights and locked the main door as he left to his car. He figured he would give the young man a few extra minutes to sort his mind out before he let him in. As he pulled into his driveway, he saw Will had resumed his pacing, but at a slower rate. At least the waiting had done his mind some good.

"Come on in Will, you can talk while I prepare dinner." Hannibal held the door open for the other, who nodded and went inside. Oddly, the brunette stayed quiet as Hannibal pulled the meat out of the fridge he had marinated that morning.

Just as he began preparing it, the other finally spoke again.

"Jack asked me to make an appearance at the bureau's New Year's party."

Hannibal didn't pause or react to the sudden statement, looking up only a moment before returning his focus to preparation. "And you did not refuse?"

Will shook his head, rubbing his wrist nervously. "I was going to, but Beverly was, happy to hear I would be there. She's… nice. So I thought it wouldn't be so bad to go for a short while."

Hannibal nodded, "And I would agree with that. Sometimes it can be good for your spirit to simply go out and be around people. There are situations where being in a large crowd is a way to socialize without having to be overly sociable. It may be a more comfortable encounter for you."

"Yes but the bigger issue is how everyone at this party wants to get drunk. It's the only reason people go to these sort of… events, if you can even call it that. It was a stupid decision and I shouldn't have even agreed." He rubbed his face with his hands, turning away from Hannibal.

"What's this about? I know for a fact you don't mind having a drink, you've had wine with me multiple times." Hannibal smiled and he placed the tenderloin into the oven, before beginning on sides, instructing will to slice the washed red potatoes.

"I… don't drink. Excessively. It just doesn't end well."

"Ah I see, what exactly is it that you find so unpleasant?" he reached out for the bowl of potatoes, letting his fingers brush against Will's for only a second.

"Letting go to that extent, allowing myself to let go of my self-control. It's terrifying. I spend too much time imagining I'm everyone else as it is, I need to keep a hold on who I am." He moved over to the sink, washing up the knife and cutting board he was using.

"Well, then there is an available solution in front of us. Are you expected anywhere tomorrow?" Hannibal asked, continuing on seasoning some snow peas. Will simply shook his head in response. Hannibal turned to the bottle of wine on the counter that he had set to breathe, pouring two large glasses. "Here, take this opportunity. You can feel free to relax here, you are safe and there isn't anyone here who will expect you to put on an act. I have a spare bedroom so that you don't have to drive all the way home. Let us enjoy ourselves on this night," he toasted, raising his glass to Will to encourage him to do the same. He gave a small smile as they drank, then set down the glass as he returned to the stove.

"I don't know if this is such a good idea. I impose on you enough as it is…" Will stared down into his glass, absentmindedly swirling the dark liquid.

"Not at all, Will. You are my friend, and I enjoy spending time in your company. It is a weekend, I don't see why we can't relax," another smile as he took a drink, Will following his lead.

Just as their meal was ready, Will had finished his first glass, just feeling its pleasant warmth begin to wash through him. He helped the older man set the table and let him refill his glass as they sat down. Will gave a small appreciative moan as he put the first slice of perfectly roasted pork in his mouth.

"I assume the meat is to your liking?" Hannibal asked rhetorically, sipping at his wine. It was actually a bottle that Will had brought for him, a moderately priced Chappellet. Hannibal had made the bordelaise sauce with this particular wine, using the marrow of a particularly obnoxious divorcee who had the unfortunate luck of catching him on a rather miserable day.

"One day you'll tell me your secret to always making the perfect sauces for every kind of meat," he chewed the next slice slowly, savoring the juices as it flowed through his mouth.

"I have confidence that you are clever enough to discern that yourself, given enough time."

They conversed over their meal, for once only keeping to light topics, like how Will's adopted family was. Will shared a story of how someone thought he was he was a dog walker when he tried taking all of his dogs for a walk at once.

Once their meal was finished, they moved to Hannibal's parlor (Will really wanted to be normal enough to call it a living room, but amongst all this refinery he didn't dare) where Hannibal moved to put on some music. Will relaxed into his sofa, ignoring the chairs Hannibal preferred guests to sit with him in. He was just finishing his third glass of wine, a small noise of protest as the other took the glass out of his hand.

"I must say this has already been quite a lovely evening Will. I feel like it's a good chance to splurge on something a little finer, though I must admit I am quite grateful for the wine."

Will let out a soft laugh, "Something even finer than what you serve on a normal basis? Is it covered in gold?" The teasing tone belied a true amusement that he felt free in sharing with his friend.

"Of course there is always something finer. But I have a distinct feeling you will enjoy this." He opened his cabinet, pulling out two glasses and pouring them drinks. Will accepted his gratefully, taking a small drink to taste.

"Oh this is delicious, I'm sorry I doubted there could be something finer than your cooking." They gave a toast as Hannibal sat down next to Will.

"25 year old Talisker whiskey. I'd been waiting for a chance to break it out, I tend to prefer brandy."

Will turned to look at the doctor, profile lit charmingly by the fire Hannibal had lit to keep out the cold night. They sat in a companionable silence as soft orchestral music played.

After a few minutes, Will spoke up again, "Do you really think I'd be okay around them?"

Hannibal gave a quiet grunt of affirmation.

"I assume it is simply that you have not truly let yourself go and relax around anyone in so long you've forgotten what it's like to drop your guard." He paused, contemplating his glass as the next song began, visibly relaxing to the sound. "Are you familiar with the story of Eugene Onegin?" He asked, meeting the younger man's eyes calmly. Will simply shook his head. "It's a wonderful tale of one who foolishly takes a young woman's love for granted. She openly chases for his love and yet he throws it aside, only to realize too late his feelings for her." He stands, moving over to his stereo to increase the volume a bit.

Will watches him smoothly walk across the room, downing the rest of his glass to enjoy the warm burn of alcohol in his stomach. He sets the glass down, intending to ask for another. He rises to take his glass over for another drink, but realizes he moved too quickly and feels his balance sway. Just before he pitches over, he feels strong arms pulling him upward only to have his balance sway back the other way. The result is that Hannibal has him held securely, but at an odd sort of angle as Will is leaned backward, Hannibal leaning forward to keep him stable.

"Are you trying to ask me to dance, Dr. Lecter?" He asks, managing to keep his usual nearly sarcastic tone.

"I thought you'd never ask, so someone has to," he smirks back. He adjusts his grip, one arm supporting his lower back as he takes one of the younger man's hands to pull him back up. "Now just follow me, this is a simple waltz. He begins counting out steps to guide him.

Will relaxes into step with him, listening as he hears the soft utterings of his counting out loud.

"Vienas, du, trys, vienas, du, trys, vienas, du, trys," so he continued, encouraging Will to follow along. As much as he tried, though, he simply could not keep up following his feet while that voice spoke in his native language. Beautiful in its foreign nature, Will did his best so that Hannibal would not stop.

On a particularly quick step, Will tumbled over his own feet, managing to knock them both to the ground. He ended up with his face in Hannibal's neck, breathing in the other's aftershave. It smelled of something earthy and alive, like the moments after a rainstorm. He 'hmm'd with vague appreciation.

"I can see why you were so particular about the aftershave. Yours smells quite amazing, even better than that amazing whiskey" he huffed out a small laugh, lips brushing against Hannibal's naturally tanned neck.

"I told you. It makes quite the difference," he replied softly, hands moving to the small of the other's back. Will had relaxed even more than Hannibal thought he would. He didn't struggle to get away, trusting Hannibal implicitly to not take advantage, not take anything that Will did not want to give.

"Will you go to the party with me? I just…" he cautiously sneaked a small kiss to his throat, "I would feel better knowing you were there."

It was exactly the position Hannibal wanted him in. Let him make the first move, let him believe in him. It gave Hannibal a wonderful sense of power to know that his plans were coming on so nicely. He knew how desperately Will wanted to cling to something normal.

He took pride in the suggestion he made to Jack that Will be 'encouraged' to attend this party. It was far too easy to convince Jack that a bit of immersion would do their sweet empath a world of good. Throw him out to sea, amongst all the people he knew Will would be lost in the waters, not knowing where he was being swept off to. But give him a single anchor to keep him tethered.

He would be that anchor, to give Will the comfort of knowing that Hannibal would do what was best for him, and not let him drift away.

Hannibal turned his face to place a gentle, comforting kiss to his lips.

"Of course I would be happy to join you."

He would take great pleasure in dragging him down.


End file.
